Oak and Ash and Thorn (from a poem by Rudyard Kipling in Puck of Pook's Hill) Of all the trees that grow so fair Old England to adorn Greater are none beneath the sun Than Oak and Ash and Thorn Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn, All on a midsummer's morn Surely we sing of no little thing In Oak and Ash and Thorn Oak of the clay lived many a day Ere ever Aeneas began And Ash of the loam was a lady at home When Brut was an outlaw man And Thorn of the downs saw new Troy Town From which was London born Witness thereby the ancientry Of Oak and Ash and Thorn Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn, All on a midsummer's morn Surely we sing of no little thing In Oak and Ash and Thorn Yew that is old in churchyard mold He breedeth the mighty bow Alder for shoes do wise men choose And beech for cups also But when you have killed and your bowl it is spilled And your shoes are clean outworn Back you must speed for all that you need To Oak and Ash and Thorn Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn, All on a midsummer's morn Surely we sing of no little thing In Oak and Ash and Thorn Elm she hates mankind and waits Til every gust be laid To drop a limb on the head of him That anyway trusts her shade But whether a lad be sober or sad Or mellow as ale from the horn He'll taketh no wrong if he lieth along Neath Oak and Ash and Thorn Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn, All on a midsummer's morn Surely we sing of no little thing In Oak and Ash and Thorn Oh do not tell the priest our plight For he would call it a sin But we've been out in the woods all night A-conjuring summer in And we bring good news by word of mouth Good news for cattle and corn Now is the sun come up from the south By Oak and Ash and Thorn Sing Oak and Ash and Thorn, good sirs, All on a midsummer's morn Surely we sing of no little thing In Oak and Ash and Thorn ' Summer Home